


Feels like home

by 1863



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 21:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18199268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1863/pseuds/1863
Summary: Time travel can be a bitch.





	Feels like home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 100 words of expecting hurt and receiving kindness.

"I thought you melted if the sun hit you before noon."

Klaus looks up. Five is standing in the kitchen doorway, bleary-eyed but unmistakably alert, pale blue PJs hanging off his skinny little frame. He sighs when Klaus just stares blankly at him in response, before stalking into the kitchen and heading straight for the empty coffee pot.

"Note to self," he mutters. "Don't bother talking to Klaus when he's clearly high as a kite."

"I'm not high," Klaus protests. "Just... distracted."

"Well," Five says with a shrug, "I guess an impending apocalypse will do that."

"It's not the apocalypse."

Five doesn't pause as he gets the coffee machine going, but Klaus gets the distinct impression that his attention isn't on the coffee at all. It's weird, this indirect focus — weird but familiar, since it's something Five used to do when he was a kid, too. Or at least, he did when he was an _actual_ kid, and not an old man who just looked like one.

"Yeah?" Five asks. 

He doesn't sound all that interested but the dreams had been especially bad last night, and Klaus had never been one to ignore an easy way out. Five could chew him out for being childish if he wanted to but he was going to have to listen to Klaus unload on him first. The kid — not-kid — sort-of-kid — _whatever_ — had no other choice: the coffee wasn't done yet and Klaus recognised an addiction when he saw one. Delores aside, Klaus knew that caffeine was Five's one true love. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got a hit.

"I had a nightmare," Klaus says. Five doesn't respond, eyes fixed on the coffee as it drips slowly into the pot. "It was about Dave." Klaus clears his throat. "He was —"

"I know who he was."

"Oh." Klaus frowns at the table. 

"What," Five says a little sarcastically, fishing a mug out of one of the cupboards. "He turn into some kind of horrifying monster and attack you or something?"

"No." Klaus closes his eyes. "He was perfect." He thinks of blue eyes, of dark hair that curled a little at the ends. "That's why it was a nightmare."

Klaus jumps when he feels a hand settle on top of his arm. Five is sitting across from him, two cups of coffee on the table between them, one black and one with cream. Klaus blinks in surprise; he hadn't even heard Five move away from the counter.

"Hitman, remember?" Five says, raising an eyebrow and answering the unasked question. He pushes one of the cups — the one with cream — towards Klaus’ side of the table. "Drink this,” he adds. 

It's disgustingly sweet and lukewarm already, more cold milk and sugar than coffee. In other words, exactly the way Klaus liked it. 

"Time travel can be a bitch," Five says.

His voice is kind of flippant but his eyes are serious as he takes a sip of his own coffee. Black and bitter, of course. For a long moment, Five just watches him in silence, somehow looking both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. His hand is still on Klaus' arm, tiny but warm and solid and best of all, _real_. 

Klaus stares at it and swallows. Then the fingers curl, just a little, pressing carefully into Klaus' skin. 

Five settles himself into his chair and takes another sip of his coffee.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks, and leaves his hand where it is.


End file.
